


You're Too Much (But I Can't Get Enough)

by lunarella



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: 3 times vs 1 fic, Bitty doesn't know how to deal with it, Canon Compliant, Copious Amounts of Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Future Fic, I don't think there's anything else to tag?, Jack likes buying Bitty expensive things, M/M, Marriage Proposal, jk there was more lol, sooo much fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-06 21:04:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16395062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunarella/pseuds/lunarella
Summary: Jack likes buying pricey things for Eric. Eric isn't sure how to properly respond.---Or, three times Jack surprises Bitty by shamelessly splurging money on him, and one time he surprises Bitty without money at all.





	You're Too Much (But I Can't Get Enough)

**Author's Note:**

> I've honestly had the rough draft of this sitting in my files for months now and I finally got around to editing it! It's pretty late though, so there's bound to some errors. If any are too bad, let me know in the comments!  
> [ Follow me on tumblr! ](https://litaluna.tumblr.com/)  
> 

 

**ONE**

It's because Eric nearly has an aneurysm whilst cooking dinner for Jack that they're currently out shopping for kitchenware; a measly four pots are not sufficient kitchenware, and Eric does not care that Jack claims to be managing just fine with them.

“Honey, I don't know how you thought Dollar Store cookware was a good idea,” Eric chastises as he meanders through the assortment of cookware, starting at the for-sale section because budgeting is second nature to him.

Jack shrugs. “I thought they were holding up fine.” Eric sighs.

“I know you did, sweetheart,” he sympathizes. Jack furrows his brows. “But, just because the non-stick coating isn't toxic, doesn't mean you should eat it when it flakes off into your potatoes. It does _not_ make for a good garnish,” Bitty advises, plucking out a box only to wrinkle his nose in distaste once he sees it's only a knock-off Martha Stuart kit. He places it back on the shelf, peaking at the price just in case. It's not a _bad_ price for all the stuff that comes with it. Plus, the pans have non-stick coating that they _won’t_ be consuming with their food. He marks it down mentally and continues browsing.

“Extra protein,” Jack jokes with a small smirk. Bitty scoffs with a smile.

“Very funny, mister,” Eric says with a mock laugh as he pushes the cart further down the aisle, until his eyes land on a familiar looking set. Eric stops, reaching out to lightly run his finger across the logo, brows knitted in confusion before it dawns on him.

“Oh my gosh!” he gasps, lifting the kit in his hands abruptly, though he miscalculates the weight and nearly drops it, had it not been for Jack’s reflexes as he steadies the box in Eric’s hands.

“What is it?” Jack asks, startled. Eric stares wide-eyed at the box in their hands.

“This is an All-Clad cooking set!” Bitty squeaks.  “How is it even in a place like this?” he wonders, but shuts his mouth a moment later, knowing better than to question a blessing when he finds one.

Bitty is too busy staring in astonishment at the set to notice Jack across from him, sending confused glances between him and the box.

“So, is this the one you want or...?” Jack asks, hands still supporting the kit, along with Eric’s. Eric looks up at him, confused at first, but then realizes and looks down at the product between them.

“Oh!” He turns to where he’d plucked the item from the shelf , only to nearly drop the item all over again had Jack not once again steadied it in their hands, before deciding to confiscate the set from Eric altogether.

There, on the shelf is a three-digit number that makes Eric want to put the item back only after he secures it in bubble wrap and apologizes to it for touching it in the first place.  

“On second thought, that other kit was nice too,” Eric lies through his teeth. To be fair, _nothing_ in the store is going to be nice compared to an All-Clad cooking set.

Eric reaches for the box to place it back onto the shelf, but Jack stops him, holding the box closer to himself, away from Eric.

 “What’s wrong with this one? You like this one,” Jack asks in confusion. Eric’s face twists into distress as he pulls his hands back to his chest, fidgeting.

“Well, it’s _nice_ Jack, but,” Eric hesitates, puffing his cheeks with furrowed brows.

“But?” Jack quirks a brow. Eric huffs and chews at his bottom lip, looking up at Jack expectantly, as if willing him to try to understand why Bitty, a boy who grew up helping his mama coupon every Tuesday, has a problem with buying a simple five-piece pot set with a price tag set in triple digits.

Unfortunately, Bitty does not have the gift of telecommunicating, so Jack continues to ogle him, confused.  

“ _Jack!_ ” he whines in a whisper. _“It’s expensive.”_ Really, Eric doesn’t know why he feels compelled to whisper suddenly. He supposes something about the topic of money just feels _uncomfortable_ , even if his boyfriend is under no monetary shortage, which Bitty thinks may be part of the problem.

Eric loves Jack. He doesn’t want Jack to think he loves his money.

Is it silly for that to be a concern? Eric thinks it probably is. Their relationship has a solid foundation after all; they communicate well, they’re comfortable around each other and they are very confident with their feelings. So logically, Eric knows he shouldn’t be concerned about Jack thinking he loves the little plastic card he keeps in his wallet more than Jack himself.

“Alright,” Jack concedes. Bitty sighs and deflates, relieved. “Then you can cook me dinner tonight in return for buying it,” Jack adds, causing Bitty to choke on his relieved sigh.

“Jack!” Eric squawks, but Jack is already tossing the item in the cart (far too carelessly, might he add, considering the price). Eric can only shuffle on his feet for a few seconds in conflicted silence before he catches up to Jack, grumpily hugging the other man’s upper arm as they walk. Jack chuckles at him.

Damn him and his selfless Canadian righteousness.

Eric lost this one, but he’ll also be damned if cooking dinner for Jack is the _only_ thing he’ll be doing in return, tonight.

 

 

**TWO**

The way Eric sees it, Jack has never particularly cared about how he spends his money. That’s not to say he’s a careless spender, he’s just not particularly reserved when it comes down to it.

All things considered, Jack doesn’t spend much at all. Eric knows this. He doesn’t blow money because he’s a very practical man and doesn’t feel the need to splurge on expensive things… but when he _does_ really want something, he gets it. Because he can afford it.

Lately, it’s becoming more and more obvious that what _he_ wants is whatever _Eric_ wants. If Eric so much as glances at something in mild interest, it’s in the cart. Most times, Eric doesn’t even realize until after checkout, or until they’re in Jack’s apartment and Jack is handing him whatever it might be and all Eric can do is choke on nothing, accept it and show Jack his appreciation with food and affection, among _other_ things.  

It’s not obligatory at all, let that be clear. Even though Eric doesn’t like Jack splurging on him, he still appreciates it. It’s just that, Jack can never spot a single thing in a three-story mall that he wants for himself, but he can spot dozens of things he knows Eric will love and that notion always makes Eric’s head spin and heart pound. It’s Jack’s consideracy that Eric fawns over, the fact that he’s always got Eric in mind.

Currently, they’re out at a jewelry shop. Neither of them is looking to buy anything, Jack is only there to repair and tighten a watch his father gave him. It isn’t crowded, but there are a handful of other customers present, enough so that Eric thought he could get away with browsing the glass-encased pieces, much to his folly. He should have known than to stray from Jack’s side as his boyfriend chatted monotonously with a woman behind the counter as she adjusted the watch to Jack’s wrist.

He should have known better. _Should_ have.

“Have you been helped?” Eric suddenly hears, startling him from where he’s admiring a glimmering chain-link bracelet of gold. His eyes trail up to meet the source of the voice; a smiling employee with brown hair and dark caramel skin. Eric’s brows shoot up, blinking before realizing what the man is asking.

“Oh! I’m just here with my boyfriend, no worries,” Eric explains, dismissively waving a hand. The man smiles, eyes angling down to where Eric had been previously looking.

 “That one just came in a little while ago,” he explains, opening the glass door to slip it from the casing. Eric tenses. Salespeople are just as much victims of marketing as they are snakes; Adapt. Adjust. Overcome.

“Oh gosh, you’re taking it out,” Eric utters quietly under his breath as the man holds out to him. Eric has always been a sucker when it comes to telling salespeople ‘no’. It’s a curse, and he always lets them talk him through whatever rehearsed marketing script they use to rope in buyers before he has the nerve to tell them he can’t because he’s got no money, when really he _does_ have some money, just money he’d like to spend on _other_ things. So, he reluctantly offers the man his wrist when the man gestures for it, resisting the urge to pout.

It’s a very light piece; not bulky like most male jewelry, which Eric appreciates. It’s composed of a thin golden rope of dainty chains that secures to a thin slate that Eric assumes is meant to have an engraving on it of the buyer’s request. It’s lovely, really, but Eric’s eyes catch on the three digit number labeled just in front of the bracelet’s place, and suddenly the accessory feels immensely heavy on his wrist.

By the grace of the Gods, Jack is suddenly calling Eric over, and Eric turns to see the other man craning his neck toward him. He turns back to the employee, whose finely plucked brows are raised inquisitively at Jack before they fall back to Eric.

“I should get back to him,” Eric says with guilty furrowed brows. The man—Lance, Eric observes from his nametag— smiles.

“Of course, thank you for humoring me. We don’t get a lot of activity around here,” he says with a bored roll of his eyes as he gently undoes the clip on the back of the bracelet. Bitty smiles, offering a Lance a sympathetic expression.

“Well, I hope the rest of your shift goes well,” Eric says as the bracelet _finally_ slips from his wrist. The tiny thing must have only weighed an ounce or two, but Eric’s wrist feels thousand times lighter with it off. The man smiles and nods, placing the bracelet back in its designated spot alongside other _similarly priced_ pieces.

Eric quickly makes his way to Jack’s side, sighing in relief when he tracks the short distance. Jack’s side is safe, as it means nobody will try to get him to put on expensive jewelry. But, of course, that’s not the case.

“What do you want engraved on it?” Eric suddenly hears. He perks up and turns his attention to Jack.

“What?” Eric asks, blinking confused. Jack jerks his head toward the woman behind the counter, to whom Eric furrows his brows at. His eyes widen when he sees her holding out a bracelet to him; the very same bracelet Eric had been ogling earlier. Of course. Now his _boyfriend_ is having him wear expensive jewelry.

“Oh, no! _Jack_ , I was only looking at it!” Eric insists, but Jack frowns at him in response.

“Don’t you like it?” he asks. Eric tenses, eyes scanning back over to the elegant gold piece still resting in the employees hand.

“Well… _yes_ , it’s lovely, but-” however, before Eric can finish Jack is interrupting, not out of rudeness but rather in the way he tends to whenever he’s excited about something. It only makes it harder for Eric to imagine saying no.

“Oh, we can get matching ones!” he says, in his own unique cheerful tone that, to anyone else, would sound monotone. Eric is very practiced in picking up the little lilts in Jack’s voice. “We can put each other’s names on them, or maybe ‘ _sweet’_ and ‘ _heart’_ because you call me ‘ _sweetheart’_ all the time. Can we do that?” he asks the woman behind the counter. Her eyes are wide in either amusement or shock or both, but she nods nonetheless and returns a moment later with two thin golden chains in hand.

“And for the engraving?” she asks. Jack turns to Eric expectantly, peering down at him with bright blue eyes. At one point, Eric would have found the attention of those eyes uncomfortably piercing with their intensity, but now finds them warm and consoling. It’s funny, Jack always tells Eric about how much he adores his dark “puppy dog eyes”, but Eric has to laugh because compared to Jack’s, well.

“Uh,” is all Eric can manage at first, but then he continues to look into those innocently expecting blue eyes and barely managed to bite back an outward sigh.

In the end, they end up choosing “ _Honey_ ” for Jack and “ _Bud_ ” for Eric, as those are their usual terms of endearments for each other. It’s sweet, really, and the longer Eric has the band on, the warmer and lighter the at one point cold and heavy chain begins to feel wrapped around his wrist.

As they leave the store, Eric lifts his wrist and looks down at the piece, sighing.

“Is something wrong?” Jack asks, looking over, concerned. “Do you not like it?” Eric rolls his eyes fondly, wraps his arms around one of Jack’s and drops his head against his shoulder, nuzzling against it.

“No, honey, I love it,” he huffs, because he means it. It’s such a sweet notion, that now everywhere he goes, he’ll have a little bit of Jack with him, and vice versa for Jack. “They’re perfect.”

 

 

**BONUS**

After going public, the following months were a bit nerve-wracking. So much in fact, that Eric suffered from more than a few sleepless nights. Never for a second though, does he regret coming out, on the ice on live television for the world to see.

It’s funny, he thinks. He couldn’t come out to his parents _, two people,_ but with Jack right there with him, coming out to the entire world suddenly seemed insignificant. He felt like he could do anything.

 The hype has died, for the most part. The first months were the most emotionally strenuous, with tabloids and news articles starring them and their relationship. Eric didn’t read any, didn’t want to and didn’t care to and whenever he considered it, Jack was there to gently place a hand on his shoulder and tell him not to bother; it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks.

Now though, they’re mostly able to walk around without anyone occasionally  recognizing them and bombarding them with questions. The media’s attitude has shifted from “JACK DATING A MAN?!” to “We Get it, Jack’s Dating a Man”.

In any case, the point is that they are finally out of the woods. The woods being the social noise that came with them coming out. Things have simmered down and they no longer feel the strain they did before.

Now, they can finally wonder around without being bombarded by reporters. Eric knew hie missed being able to simply stroll around providence with his boyfriend, he just didn’t realize to what what degree.

They’re not doing anything extravagant; just walking around a mostly vacant park. The weather is just starting to cool down, the air turning crisp and cool. It’s only the beginning phase of autumn, so it isn’t too cold, but perfect weather for cuddling. The trees around them are all beginning to shade red and orange as they slowly shed their leaves, leaving droplets of bright warm shades to contrast against the green grass.

It’s a quiet stroll, with Eric’s hand tangled with Jack’s as they occasionally bump shoulders. Eventually they wonder onto a little bridge, overlooking a small stream. Eric isn’t sure what compels him to stop there, but the scenery is nice and the ambience of the water is soothing. Eric places his elbows on the ledge of the bridge and sighs, looking down at the water as it flows under the bridge and away, carrying brightly colored leaves with it. That in combination with the rich fuchsia glow settling over the park, making the water appear pink, it’s lovely. Even more lovely with Jack beside him, mimicking Eric’s own posture as he leans against the ledge.

“I missed this,” Eric says, quietly. He can see Jack looking toward him from his peripheral.

“Hm?” Jack hums. Eric smiles.

“Just, this. Just being able to go out with you, even if it’s just for a little stroll through the park. It’s so nice to just… _be_ together, and now we don’t even have to worry about other people knowing. We can just _be_. God, why didn’t we come out forever ago. I mean, at this point I’m just using the press’s pictures of us as my new twitter icons. I don’t think they realize the opportunities they’re giving me by taking cute photos of us with high-quality cameras that I can just _use_ to my advantage,” he laughs, sighs, and then smiles with furrowed brows. “Oh, gosh I’m ranting.” Eric stays focused on the water flowing beneath them, so much that he doesn’t notice the way Jack’s expression has changed as Eric rambled on.

“God, I want to marry you.”

Eric’s expression drops, eyes widening as his brows shoot up.

He blinks comprehendingly and turns to Jack.

“Jack, did you just— _did I hear that right?_ ” Eric inquires with urgency in his voice, his eyes wide and searching.

For an excruciating moment, Jack doesn’t answer. He just stands there, blinking as if just realizing what he said.

“Uh,” Jack says, intelligently, “Well, yeah, you did. I want to marry you, I have for a while,”

“Jack are you—is this a proposal?” Eric asks insistently, stepping closer to Jack with his hands drawn up to chest in a anxious gesture. His big brown eyes dart back and forth between Jack’s and Jack is at a loss for words because Eric looks so stunning right now, with his skin and hair reflecting the sunset’s orange glare as his eyes glimmer with the scenery around them.

“I—yes? But I don’t have a ring, but we can get one? Right now? I’m sorry, I wanted to make this romantic, but you looked to gorgeous while you were talking about being together and it accidentally came out-” before Jack can finish his sentence, Eric is leaping up against him, looping his arms around the back of Jack’s neck. Stumbling back at the impact, Jack’s own arms raise to loop around Eric’s waist, holding him in place as his feet kick off the ground, leaving Jack to support his weight—which isn’t much.

“I can’t believe you!” Eric laughs from where his face is hidden in the crook of Jack’s neck.

“I’m sorry?” Jack apologizes, unsure. Eric pulls back, Jack helping him to steady back on his feet. He’s smiling up at Jack in the most enrapturing way he’s ever seen, even with the thin gloss in his eyes.

“You big goof,” he sniffles and raises his palms to rest on Jack’s cheeks. “Why are you sorry?”

“Because I—I just proposed and I don’t have a ring or anything. I was going to take you out to dinner or something,” Jack explains.

“Jack,” Eric smiles. “That was the greatest proposal I could have ever dreamt of, and a fancy dinner and ring could never buy it,” Eric consoles, and it makes Jack want to marry him even more. But, since they can’t get married right this moment, Jack opts instead to lift Eric and spin him. Eric squeaks at first, but is laughing a second later. When they stop, Eric is still hoisted up in Jack’s arms, his elbows settled on Jack’s shoulders. He looks down at Jack, pressing their foreheads together as Eric’s eyes go half-lidded.

“I didn’t technically ask yet,” Jack says, voice low and just loud enough for Eric to hear. Eric smiles with a flash of his teeth, eyes glimmering with endearment.

“Then ask” he says. Breathing deep, Jack exhales, his warm exhale tickling the skin of Eric’s neck.  Eric could swear he’s drawing out the expectant silence on purpose, just to get at Eric.

“Eric?” Jack asks, eyes flicking up to gaze into Eric’s

“Yes, mister Zimmerman?” Eric drawls coyly. Jack huffs a laugh.

“Will you marry me?” Eric swear, his smile must be splitting his face with how wide he’s smiling. Eric imagines he looks goofy, but can’t be bothered to care.

In lieu of an answer, Eric leans down and presses a kiss to Jack’s lips. It doesn’t last too long- a few seconds, a minute at most- before Eric pulls back.

“Yes.”

 

 

**THREE**

Jack doesn’t think this day could come fast enough.

 _This day_ , being the day he and Bitty are established and recognized by law, picking out a new home. _Their_ new home. Although, Jack has come to realize that home isn’t exactly a place. It’s never been a place.

They’re looking at a condo right now; one of their many options. It’s spacious, with large windows that overlook the city and filter in natural light. Eric is out in the kitchen with the realtor, probably bouncing around it as he scrutinizes and fawns every little detail.

Jack, though, took off to the bedroom, like he has for the past few places they’ve looked at. It’s the room that keeps drawing him in, no matter where they go, or what rarities every other place offered. He always goes to the bedroom because it’s the room they’ll come back to at the end of every single day. The room where they’ll unwind together after all the day’s burdens and relish in each other’s presence. The room they’ll get to hold each other in every single night and Jack can’t wait.

“Jack!” he hears Eric call, hearing the sound of his quiet footsteps approaching from behind not too long later. “This is nice,” Eric comments, walking up to loop his arms around one of Jack’s. Jack hums in agreement, though he’s liked all of the places they’ve been too. “Those windows need curtains though,” Eric says, eyeing the tall row of windows making up an entire section of the wall.

“We’re ten stories up, Bits,” Jack laughs. “Nobody is going to be peeping in on us.” Eric makes a face, twisting his lips and narrowing his brows.

“I don’t trust google maps,” he whispers, conspiratorially. Jack just chuckles.

“This one is really nice. Hopefully I can get used to that elevator, though,” Eric laughs nervously. Jack nods. It’s a nice place. They’ve all been nice. But Jack has never been a very demanding person, so as long as he’s got somewhere to build a home with Eric, then that’s all that matters.  

“That bungalow house was so cute, though! But the kitchen wasn’t very updated. Oh! And that open concept apartment! That one’s kitchen had _everything_ , but it didn’t have a lot of windows— but it _was_ spacious,” he rambles excitedly. Jack simply gazes down at Eric, fondly, his excited ranting only stopping so he can sigh and look up at Jack with his big brown eyes.

“What about you, honey?” Eric asks, softly. “Which one do you want?”

Jack huffs a laugh and smiles.

“Anything you want,” Jack says softly. Eric’s brows furrow, but he smiles.

“ _Jack,_ ” he whines. “You can’t just pick one because _I_ want it.” Eric pouts up at him, and Jack thinks it so cute and silly, because Eric is always worried that Jack only ever bends to Eric’s desires out of fear of upsetting him, when that’s not the case at all. It’s never been the case.

“Eric,” Jack says, earnestly. He doesn’t call Eric by his first name often. _Bits_ has been his own, unique nickname for a long time, but calling him by _Eric_ is special. Significant.

He turns to face Eric, whose looking up at him with wide and curious eyes, beneath a thick set of blonde lashes. He smiles and raises a hand to trace along one of Eric’s cheekbones.

“I actually _can_ , and I will,” he begins, raising a finger to Eric’s quickly when he opens his mouth to protest. _“Because,”_ he says, prompting Eric to snap his mouth shut. He peers down at Eric, whose staring back imploringly. Jack drops his hand from Eric’s face to grasp at his hand instead, bringing it up toward his lips where he presses a chaste kiss to the band around Eric’s finger.

“Because we could get the biggest, fanciest, most extravagant place in the _world_ , but it wouldn’t be home for a second unless you were there with me.” Jack takes pride in the little hitch in Eric’s voice. “So, yes, Eric, I _can_ and _will_ make my decision solely based on what you want, because I already picked my home a long time ago.” Bitty doesn’t say anything for a long moment, staring up at the other man with an unreadable expression.

“Ugh, Jack!” he huffs and leaps forward suddenly, wrapping his arms around Jack’s shoulders, who uses the momentum to spin them once. When they stop, Eric has to stand on the tips of his toes to keep his arms wrapped around Jack’s shoulders, face pressed into the crook of his neck.

Jack isn’t sure how long they stand there, holding each other. But however long, it isn’t long enough. It can never be long enough.

“You’re too much for me,” Eric huffs when they finally separate, just enough to look at each other. Eric looks up at Jack with watery eyes.

“You too,” Jack laughs softly. “But I can’t seem to get enough,” he adds, raising a hand to thumb away a tear before it can fall.

Eric leans into the touch, grabbing Jack’s hand with one of his own to press a kiss to the palm and Jack can’t resist leaning down to steal Eric’s lips in a kiss. He feels Eric stiffen for just a moment, his breath inhaling sharply before he sighs and all but melts into the touch. His arms raise to loop back behind Jack’s neck, pulling him close as he tilts his head and presses more, just as Jack’s arms loop around the dip of his waist to tug him closer, flush against his front.

Jack isn’t sure how long they stand like that, but Jack can’t help but think,

_This is home._

Not the condo, or the bungalow or the apartment, but _this_. This feeling that he only gets when he’s with Eric and only Eric.

A sudden chirp from Eric’s phone is the only thing that prompts them to separate, pulling away sharply. They’re both short of breath, and Jack thinks it’s funny that only Eric can make him, a world-renown athlete, short of breath from just _standing_ there.

Eric sighs and fishes out his phone from his back pocket, uttering something about twitter before replacing it. He turns back to Jack, dropping his arms to settle against the taller man’s chest.

“Come on, we should probably go back out there. Our realtor probably thinks we’re up to no good,” Eric advises, obvious reluctant. Jack smirks.

“Aren’t we though?” Eric quirks a brow at him.

“Come on, mister,” he says, tipping forward on his toes to press one last, chaste kiss to Jack’s lips before ceasing all contact as he walks toward the room’s exit. “And don’t you think your romantic antics are going to get you out of contributing to our final decision! You’re helping me, pick,” he calls without looking back. 

 “Darn,” Jack laughs sarcastically as he follows Eric out. Eric looks over his shoulder to Jack, smiling contagiously when Jack meets his eyes.

Maybe they are too much for each other.

But then, they can’t ever seem to get enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Ugh I miss these two.  
> Also, you bet that Lance is Lance from Voltron *winks with both eyes*  
> Anyway, tell me what you all think cause comments give me way too much validation!  
> Come bombard my ask with prompt memes and hcs!! :D  
> [ Follow me on tumblr!! ](https://litaluna.tumblr.com/)  
> 


End file.
